


Tension

by Smutty Avengers Drabbles (Annie6211)



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, PWP, Requested fic, Smut, pwithalittleplot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 01:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie6211/pseuds/Smutty%20Avengers%20Drabbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>jaynesmoonbrain asked you: Darcy Lewis (Thor) and Clint Barton. There’s not enough smut of them out there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tension

Whether Clint was rooting for the guy or not, the itch of being so close to making a shot, arms tight, string pulled back, has him on edge. 

 

It's not an unfamiliar feeling. The tension comes when a mission is unsuccessful or some asshat takes his shot or evidently, when he's prepped to make a shot but it's called off.

 

Normally Tasha would be there to handle the tenseness with some not-so-tender love and care.

 

Roughness gets the tension away. 

 

But, Tasha, his ally with benefits (she'd kill him if she knew he almost thought "friend"), was babysitting a billionaire, so Clint had to deal with the tension himself.

 

He didn't really like bringing civilians to his bed. They asked questions about his scars, were hurt when he left in the morning without giving them his number, and usually couldn't handle anything too rough.

 

But it would have to do.

 

"I can't decide if you're thinking about strangling someone or pounding someone into the bed. Maybe both at the same time?"

 

Clint startled out of his thoughts, turning his head.

 

Hello there breasts.

 

"Both." Clint grinned cheekily to let her know that he was (mostly) teasing. Before he could offer his name and his hand, the woman spoke over him.

 

"Oh, well I'd offer to help, but my boss already gets panicky if I come to work with too large a hickey. I don't think she'd appreciate finger-shaped bruises around my neck." At Clint's surprised expression, she snorted, "Dude, we're both at a bar alone. We don't come here to meet our soul mates, we come here to find someone to screw."

 

He liked her already.

 

Yet, he couldn't help but tease, "How do you know I'm here alone?"

 

"Are you?"

 

"Well, yes-"

 

"That's how I know! You just told me!" she chirped and Clint laughed, shaking his head.

 

* * *

 

Darcy. Her name was Darcy.

 

Of course, that was info on the back burner, because Darcy was hooking her fingers in the waistband of his jeans, having already tugged his shirt off and scratched her nails down his chest, leaving angry red marks.

 

"Jesus woman..." Clint muttered, attempting to get his fingers under her shirt and expose some of her skin. 

 

"Try and keep up." she snipped back, tugging his jeans down and letting them pool at his feet, leaving him in just his boxers. Growling, he grabbed her arms, spinning them around until she was pinned against the wall. "That's more like it." she grinned. 

 

Well, maybe he'd get to be rough after all. 

 

Making quick work of her shirt, he groaned as those lovely breasts that first caught his attention came into view, bra barely holding them in. 

 

"Yeah, my boobs should be classified as a legal weapon." Clint growled, tugging at her bra until it flipped down to expose her breasts. Darcy yelped, back arching as he leaned forward and nipped one, then the other, before sliding his tongue over her nipple. "H-have your fun with those later, I need you to fuck me right now." 

 

Clint responded by hooking her legs around his waist and spinning around to pressed her into the bed, grinding against her jeans. Darcy hissed, nails dragging down his back as she tightened her legs around his waist, briefly, before dropping them. 

 

"Jeans off." she commanded, lifting her hips to allow Clint to tug them down and off her, tossing them aside to join his jeans. Her bra was still wrapped around her body, under her breasts, but the messy, rushed look was a good look on her. Especially when Clint couldn't help but lean down and bite her breast again. 

 

When she growled at him, he knew she was rushing him along again and he growled back, purposefully moving his mouth up to bite along her collarbone, knowing that he'd leave marks and moving up to her neck, slowly. 

 

Look at that, he didn't have to be rough to get tension out. He could just tease her, get her tense to get rid of his tenseness. 

 

"Come on!" she whined, hips bucking up to grind against him. They both still had their underwear on, and that just seemed to make her more irritated. 

 

Clint allowed her to push him back, roll them over so he was on his back. Tugging down his boxers, she pushed them to the floor and was quick to let her panties join them. 

 

Clint didn't even have much time to appreciate her in her naked glory before she was dropping down on his dick, no preparation, no warning. Clint groaned, hands flying to her waist. 

 

Darcy rocked against him, pressing her hands to his chest for leverage. It was only a few seconds before Clint got impatient, tightening his hold on her waist to pull her up and let her drop back down. 

 

Darcy whined, letting him keep the pace with how fast he could pull her up and drop her back down. Then he began thrusting when she dropped down and she cried out, fingers flexing and fingernails digging into his chest. 

 

She pressed her knees into the bed, helping him now, bouncing on his dick and whining as he dug his fingers into her hips, undoubtedly leaving marks. 

 

The sound of slapping skin and deep groans and high pitched whines filled Clint's hotel room, and with every thrust up and drop down Clint felt more of the tension drain out and more of something else build up. 

 

Something changed, the angle was adjusted just slightly and Darcy screamed, while Clint groaned at the way she spasmed around him. Looks like he found a good spot. He slowed his thrusts to keep that angle still and Darcy moaned, body shuddering above him. 

 

It only took a few thrusts before Darcy cried out again, tightening around him and Clint growled, feeling her cum and following behind her after a few more erratic thrusts. 

 

Darcy panted, sliding off him and sprawling next to him on the bed. Clint tilted his head and his cock gave a valiant twitch as he saw her breasts heave with every gasp, but he was just too spent. 

 

"Next time big boy." Darcy chuckled breathlessly, patting him on the shoulder, before rolling over it. It was only a few moments before Clint heard her snores. 

 

Huh. Guess she'd be one of the ones that'd be angry when he left in the morning without giving her his number...

 

* * *

 

Clint woke up the next morning to a note on his bedside table. 

 

_Big Boy (huh, never learned your name),_

_Sorry, guess you don't get to deal with the magic of my boobs a next time. It was just a one night stand after all._

_-Darcy_

 

That was fine, but still...when he saw her trailing after the SHIELD- infamous Dr.  Foster a few days later, he couldn't help but smirk. 

 

Guess he'd get to play again after all.


End file.
